Do you think I would sell my own soul for money?"

Augustus, with the revolver in his right hand, felt in all the pockets
of his prostrate enemy for dangerous weapons, but he found none.

"Now get up," said he.

Dock obeyed, in momentary fear that one of the pistol balls would be
spinning through his head.

"Do you know where Mr. Watson's house is?" continued he.

"I do," replied Dock.

"Then march; and if you turn to the right or the left, or attempt any
irregular proceeding, I promise you, on the honor of Mr. C. Augustus
Ebenier, that I will give you the benefit of every bullet this pistol
contains, six in number, by actual count. Forward!"

Dock marched in the direction indicated; he could not help doing so,
bitter as the necessity was. Mr. Fairfield followed, begging and
pleading with all his eloquence, and even offering as high as a dollar
for the release of his friend.

"Old man, return to your humble abode, and give up your weary frame to
the arms of Morpheus," said Augustus, when his patience was exhausted.
"In other words, venerable sir, go home, and go to bed."

The miser was terribly stricken by the sudden misfortune of Dock; not
from sympathy, but because it foreboded the loss of the money the
prisoner owed him. It is possible that he had some fear of being
compromised before the courts. If he had, it was overborne by the
greater dread of losing his money. He could not willingly return; and
it was only when the steward threatened him with the terrible pistol
that he did so.

Augustus walked about six feet behind his victim till he came to Mr.
Watson's house, and then directed him to go up to the side door.

"Ring the bell!" said the steward, in the stern tones of command.

"See here, steward, can't we arrange this thing," replied Dock, turning
to his remorseless captor.

"Ring the bell! We'll arrange it in the court."

Dock rang the bell. Little did the father and mother of Bessie sleep
while she was away from them, and they heard the bell the first time it
was rung.

"Who's there?" called Mr. Watson from a second-story window.

"Augustus, sir," replied the steward, in the mildest of tones. "There's
a gentleman here to see you, sir."

"I will be down in a moment;" and presently a light appeared in the
dining-room.

"Walk in," said Mr. Watson, opening the door.

"Walk in!" repeated Augustus, in stern tones.

Dock followed the merchant into the dining-room, closely attended by
his gua